


Left Turn

by mitochondrials



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dum-E Cameo, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), mentions of other Avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-20 15:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17025612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitochondrials/pseuds/mitochondrials
Summary: Steve knows his past sins can't simply be washed away just because Thanos hurdled the Universe into the apocalypse. Still, he can't help but desperately desire Tony's attention. Tony's anything.





	Left Turn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamkist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamkist/gifts).



In one breathe Tony was dead. Missing in action aboard what Steve now knows as the Black Order’s spaceship.   
  
In another, Tony is alive, threatening the Sandia Peak Tramway’s tram car with a wrench in the cold New Mexican air, framed so beautifully in front of the snow dusted mountains poised behind him.    
  
It was enough that Steve could almost forget the streets littered with cars and the buildings burning in the wake of Thanos’ snap. Half of all life, taken in the blink of an eye and leaving behind endless chaos as empty planes crashed to the ground and surgeons faded mid-surgery. They were still finding bodies, following protocol by shallowly burying them upright till someone can decide what else to do them.      
  
The Milano crash landed dead center of Albuquerque three weeks ago, while Steve and what was left of them tried establishing a sense of order again in Wakanda. Tony had apparently stumbled out, crammed his face full of left over pie from inside an abandoned Village Inn, and effectively saved hundreds of lives by restarting the tram and directing his last two remaining armors to scout for trapped civilians. His friend, the blue woman called Nebula, assisted in fetching supplies and busting into abandoned medical buildings for rations.    
  
Currently she was rewiring part of the old Hulkbuster after Bruce got slammed by a skyscraper, trying to help remove the worst of the debris between what were the two busiest streets in the downtown area. It was a show of trust barely afforded to Steve in the past - not that Steve believed for a minute that he could even weld two pipes together without setting his face on fire, safety goggles and all. And it wasn’t like Thor hadn’t weaselled his way past Tony’s walls by being his genuinely sweet and god-like self. Tony had smiled so softly when Thor hauled him into a bone-crushing embrace, feet fully off the ground.   
  
Steve and Tony had never hugged. Never embraced - never touched. Once, perhaps, when Steve was so thankful Tony first survived the Chitauri invasion that day, kneeling amongst the rumble. The only other time …Well, that was why Tony couldn’t stand to look at him, wasn’t it? The briefest memory of what it’d feel like having Tony between his thighs, tainted by blood and pain and his own idiotic attempts to do the right thing.    
  
Tony ignored Nat and pretty much everyone else other than Thor, sure - Bruce and Rhodey were the clear exception - but it still cut Steve so deeply. If Tony had died too, rotting away aboard a spaceship or crumbled into ash to be forgotten in the wind like everyone else Steve had risked loving, like Bucky; like Sam; like Sharon - what was the point? They’d fight Thanos, and they’d lose all over again. He needed Tony. They needed Tony. But Tony never needed him.   
  
Tony cursed, drawing Steve out of his thoughts. “I’ve fixed this fucking thing six times! But no, looks like I’m gonna have to scrap the whole damn thing and build it from scratch. Who has time for that when I’ve got at least ten people in desperate need of supplies!” He tossed the wrench to the ground.   
  
It was easy to imagine Tony sweeping in and flying everyone down, except he already had since the road up into the mountains was caved in from one of the Air Force’s tester jets crash landing, another taken in Thanos’ snap. Rhodes was in the process of retrieving a craft from the local Kirtland Air Force Base, assuming anything remained intact. Those remaining in the mountains had survived solely because of the tram, either because they were elderly or too disabled for Tony to hazard using the armor.    
  
“Hey,” Steve said, daring to try and comfort Tony. He moved to gently squeeze Tony’s shoulder, faltering when Tony danced out of his reach and coldly glared at him in response. He was willing to accept that it was an odd gesture coming from him. It was harder to wonder if Tony was afraid him underneath that hardened surface Tony so often liked to project. “Thor and Bruce flew up some supplies just yesterday. I’m sure Rhodes will be back before tomorrow, and then we’ll work on flying them down.”   
  
That was, of course, the plan. It felt hollow to say when Steve knew that wasn’t really why Tony was so suddenly angry. Tony was in pain, judging himself too harshly for what happened on Titan. Steve had minimal details about what transpired, but he understood. How couldn’t he?   
  
Yet he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help himself, let alone Tony. He couldn’t figure out when he’d lost the ability to be soft, to be vulnerable. It’d taken him this long just to realize the depths he’d go just to avoid anyone scratching below the surface of his heart.    
  
Tony’s gaze softened, and he looked down, his lashes long and full framing his face, momentarily making him look younger and less damaged than he was. Then his flickered past Steve’s shoulder as he adjusted himself. “Hey Cap, how about we go for a malt? That little diner on Central managed to make it unscathed. Funny how it’s the sweets everybody goes for in a crisis. Er, no, I suppose it makes plenty of sense. The spirits aren’t for us recovering alcoholics and codependents on our life saving meds. Loading up on sugar is where it’s at.” He babbled, deflecting.    
  
Steve hesitantly smiled. “Sure,” he said. He’d savor anything Tony was willing to give.    
  
  
  
There weren’t many people to be seen, and several of the shops along the strip had been looted, including the theater Steve had remembered hearing about years ago now it feels like when he took his first road trip across the country. Cars were left abandoned and some even piled on top of each other, barricading one of the tunnels through next to the Rail Runner Express station. Tony had mentioned clearing out the cars and possibly utilizing them for spare parts. But they were in desperate need of planes, not cars.    
  
The diner was surprisingly still intact, with Tony making himself at home via sashaying into in the kitchen while rolling up his plaid red sleeves. “We’ve got plenty of cream. And obviously milk, because cows. There are so many cows, Steve.” He said it like he’d personally had to milk them himself.    
  
Steve did catch Tony feeding the road runners that scurried past on random occasion, magically holding a bag of seed that appeared seemingly from nowhere. It was just like Tony - Steve could have also sworn Tony called one of them Meep Meep, like the noise the Road Runner on Looney Toons made. The thought made Steve feel so incredibly fond, he couldn’t help smiling.    
  
Ironic, considering what he wanted to try and convey.    
  
“It hurt you know - after the ice. Fury putting me in that test room so he could challenge my intelligence.” He said. “It hasn’t really stopped. It’s just …It’s only gotten worse.”   
  
“Woah,” Tony immediately halted, accidentally spilling strawberry malt on the counter. “I don’t - little heavy there, don’t you think?” He laughed uneasily.    
  
“No, let me finish. Please.” Steve insisted. He was determined to say this. “I’m not …This is difficult because I don’t know what to say. Not really.” He shrugged helplessly. “But I know I’ve been careless and cold to you, and to everyone else. Sometimes it’s easier, I guess, with people like Nat and Sam. Nat does all the heavy lifting for you - it’s in the job description, right? And Sam’s a fellow soldier. But he’d never push me to be more open. That’d be beyond selfish. Kinda makes it harder to want to let it out, though. If - if you get what I mean?”   
  
Tony was staring at him, lips pursed in thought. “You mean because you’ve bottled everything up, that’s why you’ve done everything you’ve ever done? Why you judged me for keeping secrets like you were so righteous, so justified when you turned around and kept a worse secret from me?”   
  
“I’d have to accept Howard was killed by Bucky. I still - I never cried when Bucky fell. I finally, finally had him back. And Thanos, Thanos killed him again, and I can’t. I can’t cry.” His breath was shaky and he had to lean against the wall. The emotion was there, but it was like scraping through an oakwood door using a plastic spoon in order to get to the other side. It refused to be acknowledged.    
  
“Jesus,” Tony rushed to his side. “Hey, come now. Let’s go sit down, and we can just - I have no fucking idea but you can’t just throw this at me. Shit.”   
  
“My goal wasn’t overwhelm you,” Steve sighed and let himself be led back into the dining room. “You haven’t looked me in the eye the entire time I’ve been here. I know we’ve never been super close before, and that’s half my fault. And I can’t fucking stand it! Damnit Tony, I care about you. So, so much. But I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.”   
  
“Sugar.” Tony replied, pointing his index finger. “I really need sugar before we can continue this conversation, and I sorta think you’re desperately in need of a little something too, okay? I’ll be right back, finish our malts, and panic silently for two seconds. Peachy-keen? All good.” He did a thumbs up before quickly disappearing behind the kitchen doors.    
  
It was a whole minute before he was rushing right back, his shirt drenched in pink strawberry malt and the metal mixing cup in hand. “Did you just say you cared about me? You asshole! You absolute -”   
  
Steve nimbly set the cup down on the dining table next them before Tony made more of a mess. “Take your shirt off, here.” He offered his jacket. The heating was off and it was already freezing outside. “I was terrified you were dead too.” He decided to be blunt.    
  
Tony cautiously took the fabric of Steve’s shirt-sleeve between his fingers, seemingly afraid about what might happen if they were to touch. “It would have destroyed me, finally making it back to Earth if you weren’t still kicking around, succeeding in pissing me the hell off. So, what? You’re sorry - I forgive you. You broke my heart, I hope you know. But I can’t lose you too - either. The cost is too high.” The words surged from his mouth. He was nervous.    
  
“You shouldn’t have to. I haven’t earned it yet,” Steve croaked. “I don’t want you to forgive me. I just want you to talk to me!”    
  
“That’s -” Tony laughed, stumbling forward into Steve’s chest - a dam breaking between them. He laughed so hard tears stung his eyes, and Steve could feel the dampness of Tony’s lashes against his collarbone where Tony rested his head. There wasn’t much else for Steve to do but cradle Tony between his arms and wait till Tony was able to compose himself. At the very least he’d be keeping Tony warm, since Tony was still clutching onto Steve’s shirt now tightly between his fingers.    
  
Finally, “God, you’re so, so - so you!” Tony said. He stood back, wiping his eyes. “I don’t know how to do this either. I don’t know how to talk to you anymore without wanting to kiss you or strangle you first! I’m honestly unsure if maybe that’s how I’ve always felt about you. It makes me feel like I’m in high school all over again.”   
  
Steve snorted, “I certainly hope not. What were you in high school, ten?” He teased, allowing himself to relish the shift in mood.    
  
“It’s twelve. And severely outdated, you freakin old man.” Tony rolled his eyes. “I need you to talk to me.” He then said, “We’re both clearly shit at this, and I guess you’re trying now? Really trying? We can’t do this anymore, otherwise.”   
  
“Are you?”   
  
“Yes,” Tony said, the words sounding like a promise.    
  
“Yes.” Steve agreed. He moved to help Tony put his damn shirt on, hoping the malts hadn’t melted despite the chill. His concern was also cemented by the abrupt gurgling of his stomach. “Kiss me or strangle me huh?” He proceeded to ask.   
  
Tony grunted, almost bashful looking. “I told you I cared, didn’t I? I thought that was self explanatory.” He tried shrugging it off.    
  
Steve let it go for the time being. The malts, thankfully, lasted through their brief and somewhat emotional conversation. Tony hovered in-between being distant and clumsily finding excuses to graze Steve’s arm with his fingers while they drank in mutual silence, and eventually the began the walk back towards the cities main command center several streets away inside the mall.    
  
The remaining Avengers had been living inside the cafeteria, utilizing the kitchens in the course of assisting with meal prep for civilians. Tony, of course, assembled a mini arc reactor to power their operations, and was also working on installing a larger one for the whole state to run on - eventually the rest of the country. They only spotted Bruce fussing with his makeshift garden on the top floor, switching out the bulbs on the artificial sun lamp wrapped around the railing.    
  
Downstairs Tony wanted to start building the new wiring he needed to repair the tram, and Steve was tickled pink to see Dum-E stroll over, twisting his claw affectionately in Tony’s face. The original model was destroyed the same as everything else after the snap, but Tony explained he kept back-ups of all his toys on his person, hidden in the tiniest USB chip imaginable inside Tony’s wrist. Dum-E’s body was newly built and as adorable as ever.   
  
Tony sighed and waved Dum-E off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I don’t wanna hear it you bucket of bolts. I should have finished your brother first.” He mocked. Then he turned towards Steve, cupping Steve’s jaw with his hands. He was squinting slightly, debating something as Steve swallowed thickly, his pulse quickening.    
  
“Tony?”   
  
“I’m - I don’t have anything I want to say. I mostly just want to kiss you. And, um - I’m a little curious what it’d feel like kissing you with that beard, specifically. It’s very majestic, I might be a little jealous.” He babbled.    
  
“It’s okay,” Steve reassured him, reading between the lines. “I’m scared too.”   
  
They met somewhere in the middle, and Steve relished the warmth of Tony’s mouth. His lips were chapped from dehydration, tasting of iron as Steve found himself unable to resist biting them and causing Tony to groan. He wanted to trace his hands down Tony’s body. Feel the heat of Tony’s skin securely beneath him.    
  
Tony chuckled, pulling away. His lips were swollen, and so, so red. But his eyes were wide and manic - and he was smiling, tenderly. Vulnerable. “So.” He started fiddling with his hands. “The beards pretty nice. Rough. I'm kinda liking it. And, uh. Yeah. I’m pretty fucking terrified right now.”   
  
“Do you wanna hold hands instead?” Steve asked. “Today? Then we’ll see how tomorrow goes?”   
  
“It’s easier to talk that way, I guess.” Tony said, teasing, but offering his right hand none-the-less.    
  
Anything Tony was willing to give, Steve reminded himself, holding Tony’s hand tightly.   


**Author's Note:**

> _Local New Mexican writes about New Mexico because researching the East Coast is hard and is lazy. ~~And Salty.~~_
> 
>  
> 
> Happy Holidays dreamkist! I hope you enjoyed my little fic of Steeb angst! I did attempt to stuff in more sexual tension, but found it really didn't fit the tone I had going. Ah, well. 
> 
> Thank You for reading~.


End file.
